


Saturday night

by raikaya (rqyh)



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: (actually you can), (also theyre adults here you cant send them to profanity jail), (i just dont), (its not even that much what do you want from me here), Banter, Bartenders, But they banter a lot, Dowoon is a shy babi, Dowoon works as a bartender at a club, Drinking, First Date, First Kiss, First Meetings, Flirting, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Love at First Sight, M/M, Swearing, Younghyun is his adoring mom, Younghyun is this pabibong customer, also, and briwoon's too i guess, anyway this is for briwoonweek19, because we cant have a day6 fic without swearing, briwoonweek19, day2, eh who cares its a briwoon fic written by me, everyone gets a crush on him, i had to find a way to include this as briwoonweek day2 so here we go, i know it seems like it makes no sense but watching it inspired me to write this, on jaepil's part, one way or another, or is that a spoiler, poor nichkhun, technically, thank tuesdays with morrie for this, theyre bound to kiss at some point, this was written on a whim really, uh, what is a whiskey sour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 11:47:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20545643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rqyh/pseuds/raikaya
Summary: Saturday nights at the club are a normal thing for bartender Dowoon, who had become used to all the strobing lights and the drunk people and people falling in love one way or another. But this particular Saturday night would be a lot different for him, as he would meet a man so special he'd give all the other Saturdays just for him.#briwoonweek19 #day2





	Saturday night

It was a Saturday night, one whom fate decided would be more special than the others. Where people danced and sang and laughed and loved, and where Dowoon would meet the most beautiful man in his life, taking him by the heart and leaving him with his. It was a night where what used to be wouldn't be anymore, any longer. 

He was working as a bartender at an old club downtown, where you had to pass underneath the earth and bury yourself alive just to see the stars. The stars had been booming lights, all pink and blue, and pulsed together with the music that came with it, sometimes creating an overlapping shade of purple. There were people dancing and people getting drunk and people just having a good time. 

All of these were familiar scenes in Dowoon’s life, as he had been working there for three years of it. He was used to all the happenings, could predict Scenario A to Scenario Z, and to him it was practically his most mundane day.

So it shouldn’t have been the day that changed everything, the day that made Dowoon throw everything away just for one person. It shouldn't have been the day that changed his life so much that he couldn't turn back from it any longer.

But it had been all that—it _had_ been. And it started when he walked through the door.

Truth be told, Dowoon hadn’t actually _seen_ him walk through it. He was the bartender; he had a bar to tend. And when you’ve got drunk people lamenting their lives to literally every person they spotted, or teenagers trying their hardest to seem the most grown-up they have ever been, it’s kind of difficult to direct your attention elsewhere. But _he_ had that power, you know. He had the power to make everyone in the room look at nothing else.

And everyone in the room was looking at nothing else. He walked in, and looked around, and when he made eye-contact with some people, shared a nod and a polite smile. Everyone's eyes were on him, though most of them tried their best to be discreet and make it seem like they weren’t staring. But they were. Even if their eyes weren’t on him, their minds were. And it created this sort of tension that even Dowoon couldn’t pass by. It made him wonder who exactly was walking through that crowd, spotting the tuft of red hair raising a flag just an inch above the people. He was probably a celebrity, he thought, wiping a shot glass with a white cloth. He figured no other type of person could make a crowd move that way.

But he wasn’t—far from it, really. He would discover it later that night. But for now his discovery was limited to the way he looked, the way he smiled, and the way he walked up to him—to the bar, specifically. The way he sat down and Dowoon felt his shoulders hunch up, feeling a warmth spread over his cheeks and his ears. The way Dowoon felt his heart stop at the face of such a beautiful man. How no one else had been able to do that to him before, or even come close.

He had eyes that were shaped like a fox’s, and a smile that would never be attributed to one. His hair was dyed completely, even including the eyebrows the idea of which Dowoon thought would never make someone look good, but was now proven wrong. His nose was pointed, he had cheeks that looked as if they would be soft to touch (Dowoon would be able to know exactly the truth of that, later that evening), and his lips were tinted just a touch of light pink, as if an ode to his red hair. Either way, he was breathtaking. Either way, Dowoon’s breath was taken.

“The usual, please,” were the man's first words, giving him a constant smile. “And add a Margarita to that, as well.”

Dowoon felt himself plummet to an abyss of complete and utter devastation.

_The _usual_?_ Dowoon thought, his inner words screaming in his head. _What the hell—but I’ve never even _seen_ this guy before—how can he have a _usual_? Oh, but maybe he usually comes when I’m off-duty—wait, but then why is he asking _me_ for a usual? I don’t even know him, _he_ doesn’t even know _me_—what kind of sick mind game is the world making me go through now—_

“Oh, sorry, I thought you were the other guy who worked here.” The man let out an embarrassed laugh, covering his mouth with a hand. “One whiskey sour, please—still with the margarita. Oh, and could you add a bit of agave syrup to the margarita? Thank you.”

That made Dowoon relax a bit, feeling a breath of relief leave his lips as he went on to prepare the order. Thank god it was just a mistake or he would’ve combusted into the netherworld and _begged_ to stay there, if just to escape the dread. (He wouldn’t actually do that, of course, if that had actually happened. God forgive his Christian soul.)

Despite being given the consolation that he had nothing to worry about, however, Dowoon’s heart was still _pump-pump-pump-_ing like a hard-working carpenter trying to stick a nail into a very stubborn wall. With that gorgeous man sitting on the barstool literally only a foot—if not _inches _away from him, Dowoon had a hard time concentrating on his work, finding himself sparing a glance or two maybe every millisecond. It was like the very presence of that man had the force of a magnet, pulling Dowoon’s eyes to his direction no matter how much he glanced away. It was unstoppable, perhaps inevitable, and quite the new experience on Dowoon’s part, who until then had never been so enamored with someone at face value before. This man was already quite something, and he only said a total of six sentences. Though his voice was enough for Dowoon to want to record every word of it.

“So, have you been working here long, or are you a new one?” the man asked someone and Dowoon glanced to see whom he was talking to. Then he saw his eyes were on him and he realized it was _him_ whom he was talking to. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”

“Oh, uh, that’s probably because—well, uh, I mean—uh, you probably—uh, maybe you come here when I’m off-duty? I don’t know? Uh—” Dowoon looked down, focusing on adding that agave syrup to the ordered margarita. “I’ve been working here for three years,” he said softly, almost as if it was something to be embarrassed about.

A breath of laughter left the man’s lips and Dowoon glanced up to see his eyes crinkling in amusement, eyebrows furrowing and the corners of his lips automatically pulled up by the smile. It made Dowoon stop for the second time that night, made him almost drop the glass he was holding, which he tried best not to.

“God, you’re so cute,” the man blurted out, almost as if he didn’t mean to say it, and his next sentence at the sight of Dowoon’s blush confirmed it: “Sorry, just—that was adorable. Are you always like this? I should come here on Saturdays more often.”

Dowoon left a soft breath leave him, the right corner of his lips threatening to pull up. “Go ahead, I guess,” he said, trying a joking tone. “More customers mean more money.”

The man pulled his lips up wide, toothless.

“I'd love to spend all my money on you.”

And Dowoon finally _did_ drop his glass, though thank god he was able to catch it before it crashed onto the floor. His relief was only short-lived, however, when he realized the mess he made—both on the bar, and on himself.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” the man said, pulling himself up and looking over the bar. Dowoon was sending a silent prayer to God to not make this night his last. “I guess that’s why they ban flirting with the employees.”

“If you knew that, then why did you—” _Flirting. He specifically called it flirting._ “I mean—what did you—why this—what—what—what—”

“What’s going on here?” 

Dowoon turned around to see Nichkhun walking over to him, a stern look on his face. Nichkhun was the manager of the club, standing with short-cropped black hair and round eyes. He like a brother to Dowoon, an older brother who was fond of making jokes and keeping things chill and giving advice to younger ones like him. But when it came to work, he was like his math teacher—merciless, with no limits.

“Sorry, Manager-nim,” Dowoon started, bowing to him, “it was all my—”

“It was my fault, sir!” the man suddenly piped up, and both Dowoon and Nichkhun turned to him with varying degrees of concern, worry, and surprise. “I, uh—knocked the glass with my hand. Tried to catch it, but this guy was the one able to. Thank god it didn’t drop to the floor, right?”

Dowoon turned to Nichkhun with a worried glance, feeling his heart _pump-pump-pump-_ing again, though now for a different reason. His manager was still staring at the man with a stern face, his eyebrows furrowing even further along with the frown on his mouth. 

“I’ll, uh, still pay for it—and the additional order too,” the man supplied helpfully. “Um… do you want me to wipe the mess?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Nichkhun finally said, after a pregnant pause. He then reached over for something under the counter. “But if you insist on it, be my guest.”

He placed a white cloth onto the bar table, some parts of it soaking up the spilled drink, and walked away without another word, almost in sashay; he didn't even spare Dowoon a glance.

Meanwhile, the man was already leaving his place at the bar and walking over to Dowoon’s end.

“W-w-wait—hang on—what are you doing?” he said, putting frantic, shaking hands in front of him. The man had passed through the low door and was already making his way to Dowoon’s side.

“Insisting, as that guy said.” The man shrugged, grabbing the cloth. “Besides, it really was my fault, anyway. When you see a guy this cute, how can you resist?”

Then he winked at Dowoon, and then he crumpled his face in reflection. 

“Damn it—I did it again.”

Dowoon stared at the man as he went over to wipe the bar table, cleaning the different apparatus with as much seriousness as the etymology of the name Enerstyne. He was made to look over him for one second longer than necessary—almost as if (if) he was checking him out—before he glanced away with a small smile on his face, finding him amusing now as much as he was gorgeous. He was clumsy. How adorable.

“Well, I don’t mind it, you know,” he said, feeling the man turn to look at him as he reached for a glass. “I mean, if you want to flirt, go ahead. Just don’t disturb the customers. And don’t make me drop my glass again.”

If he were to imagine how the man’s face looked like before he spoke, it would be with a growing, slow grin. 

“No promises for that last one, but…” He paused for a bit. Dowoon refused to look at him, to keep his pride. “I’ll take the invitation.”

And Dowoon smiled wider this time, with the confidence that the man couldn’t see him. He failed to see that he was directly across a reflective surface, though, and so the man saw everything.

“Hyung, what are you doing behind the bar?”

The introduction of a new character made Dowoon glance up, spotting a shorter individual walking up to them with a question in his eyes. They were wide and orb-like and slightly crossed, and gave the notion that this person—a man—was of naive innocence, pure, like a cinnamon roll. His hair was dyed a dark brown, and he wore a choker around his neck. For what reason Dowoon paid attention to that he didn’t know. 

“Oh, Pil-ah! You finally came,” the man said beside him, and Dowoon could hear the grin in his voice. “You missed a lot.”

“Yeah, I guessed,” “Pil-ah” said, finally reaching the bar with a raised eyebrow. “What did you do this time?”

“Flirted and made someone spill our drinks everywhere.”

“This the guy?” He pointed to Dowoon.

“Yeah.”

He turned to him. “I am so sorry.”

“N-no worries,” Dowoon stuttered, trying a nonchalant shrug and focusing on his task. “He’s going to pay double already anyway, so we’re all good.”

“And you make this night even better,” the man said to him, and Dowoon almost dropped his drink again. 

He closed his eyes in meditation. “Maybe you should flirt with me _after_ I'm done finishing your drinks?”

“Yeah, I think that would be wise, yeah.”

The man finally finished his task and left Dowoon’s side in favor of the seat next to the supposed Pil-ah, who was looking around him as if he was expecting a scandal to happen at any moment. Dowoon had finally went on to prepare that whiskey sour after he finished the margarita, dropping in that agave syrup as promised. The man took it and slid it onto the space in front of Pil-ah, who didn’t notice it.

“Did you come here to drink, or did you come here to gawk?” the man said jokingly and Pil-ah finally noticed him. “I even got you your favorite, and you're just ignoring me?”

“Oh, come on, hyung, you know why I’m even here in the first place,” Pil-ah said with a “duh” expression, finally taking the glass in his hands. “You’ve known me since we were kids and you still can’t take a hint?”

The man placed a mocking hand on his chest. “You wound me. And here I thought you were finally going to confess your secret feelings for me and we can ride the sunset together happily ever after.”

“Ew, hyung.” Pil-ah scrunched his face up in disgust. “Not with you.”

Dowoon watched as the man kept his eyes and grin directed at Pil-ah, leaning on clasped fingers and both elbows as the other man continued to look around him. It made him slow down his movements a little, slow down his preparing of his drink. Were they…? Was there something…?

Then from the entrance came in another individual, and Pil-ah promptly shot up from his seat, completely abandoning his full drink in favor of a very loud squeal by which he didn’t care about the scandalized looks that he was receiving. Dowoon realized that the very same scandal that the man had been looking out for was himself.

The man who walked in was a very tall man, possibly six feet high, and had a lanky and thin frame. His hair was dyed blonde, with the black roots peeping out from underneath, and there was a pair of wide, round, and thinly-framed glasses perched on the top of his nose. Beside him there was a shorter man—though not by far—with shortly-cropped brown hair and a wide nose. He seemed to be a rather serious individual, one who held himself up with high standard as compared to his tall, lax companion. Neither of them seemed to expect the man at the bar squealing at the sight of at least one of them, possibly expecting a peaceful night.

But when Pil-ah squealed the lanky man immediately turned away with a hand covering his face and it was his serious companion who grabbed him by the arm and yanked him back into the club, giving Dowoon an idea on who that squeal was for.

“Jaehyungie-hyung, you’re here!”

Pil-ah practically sprinted across the room—the distance wasn’t that big, really—and jumped on “Jaehyungie-hyung”, promptly wrapping his arms around his neck and pressing his body against his. His shorter companion just put his two hands up as if to remove his involvement in the situation and left Jaehyungie-hyung to grimace at the man in front of him.

“H-hey, Wonpil…” Jaehyungie-hyung said, in a soft, shaky voice. “What a… surprise to see you.”

“Pil-ah’s been flirting with Jae-hyung for months,” the man suddenly informed and Dowoon turned his attention to him, finding a sly smile on his face. “Well, _trying_ to anyway. He’s had this biggest crush on him for the longest time and—since ‘giving up’ isn’t exactly a part of his vocabulary—he’s been pursuing him ever since they met again.”

Dowoon looked at the pair again, finding the serious companion talking with another set of individuals; Wonpil was grinning widely at the now “Jae-hyung”, biting his bottom lip in glee. The taller had his hands on the shorter’s back, though Dowoon suspected that to be out of instinct more than anything.

“Hyung… let's get out of here and go to my apartment like last time,” Wonpil suggested, fluttering his eyes suggestively. _Okay—not as innocent as I thought he was._ “It was really something, you know? I can't stop thinking about it…”

“Holy shit, I didn’t know they slept with each other,” the man whispered, fully indulged in the drama of it. He had taken Wonpil’s drink and was sipping from it.

“I-it really _was_, uh, _something_,” Jae-hyung admitted, eyes looking at anything but Wonpil. He visibly swallowed, face turning read. “But, uh, I don't know. I mean, we just got here and I can't just leave Sungjin-hyung behind—”

“Then we can go _after_,” Wonpil complied, wrapping his arms around his neck tighter. “I'm willing to wait. You're so worth it anyway, and besides—”

Wonpil put his lips close to Jae-hyung's ear and whispered something with a sly smile, eyes looking him up and down, mischievous.

And when he pulled away Jae-hyung looked like he was in a daze, cheeks red, face red—his grip on Wonpil's body grew slightly tighter, and Dowoon could see the look of triump in Wonpil's face.

“... Ugh, fuck me,” Jae-hyung groaned in displeasure and removed Wonpil's arms in favor of grabbing his hand and pulling him out the club, almost in a frustrating manner.

And Wonpil squealed, “Gladly!” and followed him up the stairs, eventually disappearing into the surface with as much excitement as a mouse surrounded with cheese, getting ready for the feast he would receive that night.

“_Damn_! I did _not_ see that coming,” the man said, slamming a palm onto the bar table. “I never thought they'd be seeing each other—_damn_!”

Dowoon chuckled. “Me, too, I guess,” he said, placing a final lemon piece onto his whiskey sour. “For a second there, I thought—”

Dowoon cut himself off and the man caught him.

“For a second there, you thought…?” the man faltered in a teasing, questioning tone, leaning forward with a raised eyebrow and a grin.

“Nothing,” Dowoon lied between teeth, looking down. “I thought nothing.”

“You thought we were together, didn't you?”

Dowoon didn't answer, and that was more of an answer to him.

“If we were dating,” the man said with a smile, “why would I be flirting with you?”

Dowoon huffed. “I don't _know_,” he said with a child-like shrug and crossed arms, glancing to his left. “Force of habit? You find it fun? I mean—we've only known each other for like thirty minutes.”

“Not used to people flirting with you?” the man asked with an understanding nod.

“Well—” Dowoon glanced back at him, giving him an unsure look. “I mean, yeah.”

The man gave him a small smile at that before putting his palm out, silently asking for Dowoon to put his on it.

And he did, because what else could he do?

There was an immediate wave of warmth that enveloped the palm of his hand the moment in came in contact with his. The man passed his thumb over his set of fingers, and Dowoon felt a tingle run down his spine.

Then he brought Dowoon's hand to his lips and placed a kiss on it, sending a fire spreading onto Dowoon's cheeks as if he was placing it on his lips.

“I promise you you have nothing to worry about,” the man said, looking him straight in the eye. Like he was looking straight at his soul. Like he wanted Dowoon to understand it, at that moment.

It made him stop for the third time that night. How amazing was it that in a span of thirty minutes, one's heart had stopped beating three times? And yet he was breathing. And yet he was alive.

Then a customer came and ordered a beer and the both of them let go at the same time, the man bringing his hand up to his neck and Dowoon bringing his to a glass. But they had the same pair of smiles. But they both had tints of pink on their faces.

“Hey, uh,” the man started, and Dowoon glanced at him in between pours; he was finally giving his whiskey sour its due, “why don't we go somewhere tonight? Go out. Walk. Maybe watch a movie or something.”

“You asking me out on a date?” Dowoon tried to suppress his grin; at most it was his bottom lip trapped between teeth.

“I mean, yeah.” The man shrugged, but he was fiddling with his fingers. “You up for it?”

“My shift ends at midnight.” Dowoon glanced behind him with an amused smile, giving the customer her beer. “I don't wanna lose a three-year job.”

“I could wait.” He shrugged again. “We could have our date then.”

“At _midnight_?”

“We could be pretentious and name star constellations. Or rebellious and break into that public swimming pool.”

“You really can't wait for tomorrow?” Dowoon was still biting his lip.

The man shook his head with a smile. “Not at all.”

It was a Saturday night that night. One whom fate decided would be more special than the others. Where people danced and sang and laughed and loved, and where Dowoon met the most beautiful man in his life. 

He took him by the heart and left him with his and made what used to be not used to be any longer. He made that night a night of change, of a Truth or Dare game where he did things he normally never would. 

But that was the power that man held, he supposed. He made you take a leap of faith if just to see him on the other side. He made _Dowoon_ take a leap of faith that night, when he unbit his lip in favor of a wide grin. When he leaned in and laughed, and said a total of two words:

“Me neither.”

He found his lips to be soft and his cheeks even softer and the sight of his whiskey-and-margarita smile even more beautiful when he felt it against his. He found adrenaline coursing through his veins when he ran from his station, grabbed the man's hand, and yelled back in a heaving breath, “Sorry, Manager-nim! I'll work an extra shift tomorrow!” He found the coolness of the nightly breeze placing scratchy kisses against his cheeks the moment he left the underground. Found the stars overhead blinking blue and red and found one more twinkling in his chest.

He found out that the man loved to eat and that he worked at a ramyeon shop just for that purpose. He found out that he loved to jump and run and yell into the night if just to hear those echo-y voices. He found out that he lived in a four-story building on the fourth floor which was merciless to his back. And he found out his skin was lined with dozens of moles and that he loved to kiss even that.

It was a Saturday night more special than the others, the Saturday night where they met. 

It was a Saturday night more special than the others _because_ the two of them met.

  


  


  


  


  


**Author's Note:**

> \- "saturday night and we in the spot / don't believe me just watch" //dabs  
\- but anyway yeah this was a fic that i wrote literally on a whim the other day after watching tuesdays with morrie. it was just like a sudden burst of inspiration came over me and this story was the result. obvsly if you watched tuesdays with morrie, this fic isn't even anything remotely similar to it, but it was what gave me this bout of inspiration to just _write_ something and for that i am ever grateful  
\- also this thing had like two more alternate endings but the one you read now felt like the best and most appropriate on, so i hope it was a good read!  
\- anyways thank you so much for reading this, and i hope you have a wonderful day ^^
> 
> #briwoonweek19 #day2
> 
> twitter: [@raikayyylmao](https://twitter.com/raikayyylmao)  
curiouscat: [@raikayyylmao](https://curiouscat.me/raikayyylmao)  
hellopoetry: [@ruqiruqi](https://hellopoetry.com/ruqiruqi/)


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